


That Damned Buggy

by NotSoSpartan



Category: Mad Max (Video Game 2015), Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25865731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotSoSpartan/pseuds/NotSoSpartan
Summary: A friend of mine ran the Mad Max table top role playing game for our D and D group, and we finished up tonight. This is the epilogue of my character, Liv. Doc, Blinky and Manmeat were the other player characters. For context, Liv and Manmeat betrayed Doc and Blinky by trying to take 'The Globe' (not sure if this is a canon thing or something the DM made up as I haven't actually engaged in the Mad Max franchise) to someone who would pay them well, as opposed to giving it to Furiosa who wanted to use it to 'change everything'.So yeah. If you read this, thanks. It's just something I needed to do and felt like popping it on here for others to read if they felt like it.





	That Damned Buggy

“Deal’s a deal, Liv. Your car-”  
“Fjord,” the scratched, bruised, and half-dead woman corrected. Furiosa sighed, irritated to be interrupted by someone who’s life she’d spared out of pure pity.  
“ _Fjord_ gets fixed, and you piss off out of here. We see you anywhere near the Citadel and we blow your head sky high.”  
“Got it,” Liv responded, her eyes staring intently at the ground as if perhaps she could find solace there. Maybe it would open up and devour her? Or perhaps she’d wake up, and find that the last few months had all been a nightmare? No. That shit was for lucky people like Blinky and Doc. At the very least Manmeat had gone out like a true road warrior, suffocated to death by a particularly brutal punch from the metal arm of Furiosa, and she’d just… given up.  
“Now get out of my sight until that damned buggy is fixed,” the woman spat at her, and stormed away.

It was only once Furiosa was long gone that Liv dared to lift her head. Blood and dirt caked her face, arms, and pretty much every visible part of her, including her mismatched shoe and boot. The scraps of clothing that she’d fashioned into an outfit over the years looked worse than ever before, with new holes that needed to be patched and stains of other people’s blood and her own car’s oil covering almost every inch not covered in dirt and her own blood. She ran a hand through her hair, fingers quickly becoming caught in the knots of her mohawk, leaving only her thumb free to graze the shaved side and the sideburn if she moved it. Reluctantly she removed it and held her arms across her chest in an attempt to comfort herself. She’d ruined everything. Well, almost everything. Furiosa had The Globe now, at least, no thanks to her. And Fjord would be fixed soon. But then, Fjord was the whole reason she was in this mess. _That damned buggy…_ she thought to herself, echoing Furiosa’s words. She never thought she would see the day that she would see him as a damned buggy, but today was apparently the day. She’d almost sold every living person’s future to fix _that damned buggy_.

Tears prickled at her eyes. She found herself sniffling. It wasn’t long before she had crumpled to her knees sobbing hysterically, slamming her left fist against the floor, then jerking it back to her chest as it jarred and blood spattered across the floor. She forgot that she’d cut it during the fight. The pain sparked a wave of nausea and a renewed need to cry. She bent further forward until her head hit the ground, and cried for what felt like hours. She’d had years of needing to do this, needing to let the grief and the anger and the pain out - but she’d never been able to. She was always being the getaway driver, or the insane sand collector, or the traitor, but never the grieving widow. Her Fjord. Not the buggy, but her husband - the person who had given her the buggy and who’d maintained it for so long. He was the reason she needed to keep the thing on the road. It was the last thing he’d touched, and the thing she’d used to kill his murderer in rageful revenge - if the buggy ceased to exist, so did he in her eyes.

Suddenly, a wet tongue licked at her cheek. She turned to look at its owner - a shaggy looking, agouti coloured dog of unknown breed that panted in her face, the stench of dog breath filling her nostrils. “Hiya Sebby,” she said, trying to sound cheerful through the tears and running nose, “How are you?” The dog grumbled, snuffling its way into the crook of her neck and staying there, pawing at her gentle to tell her to fuss him. “You need some comforting, eh buddy?” She asked. “Yeah… Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this OC epilogue drivel from our table top game of mad max. I know it's quite self-indulgent considering I've not watched or played anything to do with Mad Max, but it's something I had to do for character closure.


End file.
